


A Room of One's Own

by Thranduils_Bossy_Elk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thranduils_Bossy_Elk/pseuds/Thranduils_Bossy_Elk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short one-shot about Dean's thoughts in his own room. Takes place a little bit after "Trial and Error" season 8. (Probably don't read before watching "Trial and Error", won't make sense lol)<br/>Been on FF.net for a while, but I'm transferring my works to Ao3 :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Room of One's Own

**Author's Note:**

> Can I just say that I completely and utterly loved the "Dean's own room" scene in "Trial and Error". This is just a tiny one-shot, it could be a moment sometime in the future when hopefully Sam and Dean have been living in the Men of Letters base for a little while.
> 
> I own nothing! The title is of course lifted from Virginia Woolf's essay.

A Room of One's Own

"'Night, Dean!" Sam called, his voice echoing down the hallway. "Don't get up too late!"

Dean grunted his reply, closing the door to his room. He took a moment, as he did every time they had a chance to stay at the base, to just let the quietness of the room fill him.

The room was small, but a lifetime of drifting had kept Dean's expectations small as well. As always, he had left the bed neatly made. The world was too full of places that Dean Winchester had passed through without thought of returning, so he wanted to always leave this room ready for him to come back.

He strode forward, putting his bag on the desk chair and taking off his jacket. The walls were simple, decorated only with his prized guns and knives and lit with several small lamps. There wasn't a closet but he didn't need one. Dean didn't own much. His life was made up of a few mementos from years past, the Impala, his weapons, and the clothes he carried around in a green duffel bag.

On the scuffed desk was the Led Zeppelin vinyl that Dad had given him, the one he played over and over as if it were his dad's voice drifting through time. The record was propped up to show the classic artwork on the front. His mind riffed his favorite guitar solos as he dimmed the lamps around the room.

Dean reached to turn off the desk lamp and smiled when he caught sight of the small, worn photo on the desk. Mom. He reached over and smoothed his thumb over the faces that time would have erased if not for the photo. Mary's blonde hair in the picture had faded to a pale translucency from years of being in Dean's wallet but her smile was just as bright as the day it was taken. Dean let his eyes wander to the other figure and considered the small boy in the picture. There was an unbridgeable void between himself and that boy. Dean almost felt as if the picture held a different person. This had been taken before Sam was born, before Yellow Eyes, before Dean's real life had begun.

"Hey buddy," Dean murmured softly to himself, "You've got some crazy times comin' your way." The boy in the photo kept smiling, his arms wrapped around Mary.

Dean's thumb briefly rested against his mom's face again before he put the picture gently back where it belonged on the desk and turned off the lamp.

From down the hall, Sam's snores filtered distantly through the rooms. Dean smiled slightly as he lay back on his bed and closed his eyes.

_But there're a few good ones comin' too._


End file.
